Back to the start: Crawley
by wormbuffet
Summary: What if a girl falls back in time to when 2D was just a teenager at Saint Wilifreds Academy? Witness the events that turn him from funny Stuart Pot to gaping vocalist for the Gorillaz! Slight hints of 2D and OC....
1. Chapter 1

Yaaaaay! You clicked my story! Good for you. )

This is an old fanfic I did in December last year when I noticed there really wasn't that much in Rise of the Ogre about 2-D's past. It made me curious, so I dug around and got some dates and brief details, like what school he went to and what year it was, what sorts of uniforms that school boys wore back then...and I got to work! This is set in the year 1989, about a several months before 2-D gets hit by Murdocs car at the organ emporium. I haven't rewritten this story enough, so there's some reaaaaaaly rough parts that probably don't make sense...but they will! I promise!!

Give me some feedback, kay? Just one line and I'm satisfied!

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I held up my hands to shield my eyes. A violent, yellowish orange light blazed through my eyelids, burning my skin, smoldering the fringe of my dress. It felt as if I was standing in a microwave. My lips chapped, peeled and split as I grimaced through the heat and exposed them to the light.

_What is happening? What is this?_

It stopped as suddenly as it had begun. Cautiously, I let my arms drop to my sides.

I was standing in a cold, wet street. A very fine mist fell down from the grey skies, cooling my skin. I still felt as if I had been recently on fire, and I shut my eyes to relieve their aching lids.

I suddenly realized I wasn't in the same place. Before the flash, I was in California, in a clothing boutique. Where was I now? I looked around, my heart beginning to beat sharply.

This place was nothing like California. It was so...wet. And drab. The street I stood on was cobblestone, with moss between the jagged stepping stones. There were deep ruts in the center of the street like from a wagon. I knew my history reasonably well, and this place was _old_. The cold wind bit into my exposed skin. I examined myself, and was shocked. My skin was bright red and chapped. The sleeves and hem of my light sun dress were singed like oven mitts.

What had happened?

I tried to remember, but all that came to mind was the blinding, burning light, so much hotter than the sun. The wind gusted against me, raising goosebumps. There was no-one on the street to see me like this, and I was relieved. I must have looked a fool, because certainly this was no place for a tiny sun dress and sandals.

I caught a glimpse of myself in a store front and didn't recognise myself. My short hair was frizzled and twisted. I reached for my hair and took a step forward to look closer.

Thinking back, I realize it was the slippery cobblestones, but when I felt myself falling, I wondered if I had stepped off the edge of a planet or something. I hit my head very hard on the sharp stone curb. I tasted blood in my mouth. The grey clouds swirled above and I shut my eyes.

I opened them again briefly. I was still on the ground, my head roaring in pain. There were two or three dark figures standing over me, talking quietly. I squinted.

One was taller than the rest. He crouched down and peered into my eyes.

"Lookit, she's awake!" he said, his accent thick. Even through the haze, I placed it as low-class British.

"Isshe?"

"Wot happen', d'you think?"

"Hit 'er 'ead. Lookit the blood. Like a zombie."

The tall one reached out and felt my neck, looking for a pulse. He wasn't very good at it, because it was the wrong part of my throat.

"I don' feel a pulse!"

"Relax. She's breathing."

"Oh, well then we should gett'a 'ome. D'you see a wallet or summat? Look for an ad'ress, Char." he said, issuing commands. The other figures floated around slowly.

_"I don't have an address. I don't live here." _I tried to say, but all that came out was a groan.

"Ladies don't carry wallets, stupid."

"Jus' look for an address, Char!"

One figure shook it's head.

"Naw, nuffink. Le's take 'er to my place."

"Yeah, outta da wet."

"Awright. Can you walk, miss?"

I tried to shake my head. The tall figure understood. He put his arms around me and clasped them under my shoulders while another figure took my ankles. I swung like a hammock between them, my head lolling. And I shut my eyes again.

When I woke again, I was still wet. Above me, a fan slowly swung its blades, humming comfortingly. My head felt much better.

How had I gotten here this time?

I sat up and rubbed my eyes. I was in a dim room. There were brown plaid couches, a hideous orange armchair, and thick coil rugs on the faded carpet. The blinds were drawn, the source of the dim light. There was a fireplace across the room from me. The flames had burned down to coals.

I was utterly facinated.

Ignoring my aching body, I got up and crouched in front of the fireplace. Growing up in Cali, there was never any use for a fireplace. I had never seen one in action before except on TV.

The embers glowed like rubies, but prettier. Each rocklike chunk of burnt wood was veined with red spiderweb patterns. Any shade of red I could think of was there, somewhere in the pile of coals. They gave off steady waves of heat, and I could imagine them washing over my skin, and then drawing back like an ocean.

The back of my neck prickled and I knew I wasn't alone anymore. I turned around.

A rather tall boy was standing in the doorway. The first thing I noticed was his shocking blue hair. It was combed messily the side, but there was an air of rebelliousness about it. He had short nose like a monkey's, and black eyes. His eyebrows were black also, mis-matching his hair.

"Herro."

His voice was sort of wobbly and high-pitched, but masculine enough. I felt awkward.

"Er...hi. Where am I?" I asked, standing up and playing with my dress. I could see myself in my head, with tousled hair, wrinkled wet dress and muddy sandals. What a wreck. I tried to smile.

"My mate Charlie's pad. How're you feeling?" he replied. He half-winked one eye in a sort of curious expression.

"Perfect. Thank you very much for letting me stay here."

"No problem. You looked a right mess ou' there on th'a street, and we figurred you needed some 'elp." he said, smiling. I smiled back, feeling my cheeks burn.

He walked the rest of the way in and flung himself onto the brown couch. He had incredibly long legs, and they hung over one end. He leaned his head over the other, grinning impishly.

"I bet you're real clumsy. 'Ow'd you fall so hard?"

"I don't remember. I was sort of...lost." I didn't have a better name for it. The orange flash still perplexed me.

"Lost?"

"Yes."

He chuckled.

"So you aren't frum 'ere. You talk funny. You know that?" he said. I giggled.

"You should hear yourself."

He chuckled again, and stopped himself. There were loud footsteps in the hall, and then three more boys burst into the room.

"The sleeping beauty wakes, eh?" cried one, a thin boy with black hair and a long nose. He gave me a wink and sat on the arm of the blue-haired boy's couch.

The other two laughed loudly and flopped on the floor. They were completely identical, from the way their longish hair hung over their eyes, to their matching blue sweaters.

"Don't be rude, Stu. Introduce us!" They chided, crossing their arms. The blue-haired boy kicked one of them.

"Er...well, this one 'ere is Jamie," he began, pointing to the twin he had just kicked. "An' this'un is Will." he pointed to the other one.

"Hi." they chorused.

"Hi." I replied, smiling shyly.

"I'm Charlie." said the long-nosed boy, waving.

"I'm Erin." I said.

Charlie laughed.

"That's a boy name."

"No s'not! Shut up!" said the boy with blue hair. I assumed his name was Stuart, because they had called him Stu earlier.

"You shut up!"

"No, you! 'snot polite to make fun o' a girls name!" said Stu hotly.

"I'm jus' makin' an observation. She looks like a boy, too. Lookit her 'air."

Stu looked at me. I did indeed have cropped hair, but it wasn't that weird. Lots of girls had short hair in California. It was in style. But these boys looked at me like it was a scandal.

"I say!" exclaimed Stuart, widening his eyes. "I thought she had it tied back or summat."

I rolled my eyes. I noticed the strange clothes they wore. Stu was wearing a grey jacket and a white collared shirt, with a black and white striped tie. It looked like a uniform. The twins were wearing blue old fashioned sweaters and khaki shorts, with knee high socks and leather shoes. Charlie was wearing the same outfit as Stuart, but his tie was tied properly and he looked a bit neater. All of them had the same haircut, combed to side. Their formal, old fashioned clothing seemed as if it saw a lot of use. Their pants were wrinkled and lined. Stuart's tie was so crooked it looked like he had slept in it more than once.

I interrupted their argument.

"Hey! Where is this place? Is this Los Angelos or what?"

Charlie stared at me strangely.

"No...this's Crawley."

"Where's that?"

"Wot, you're jokin' roight?"

I shook my head, feeling my head begin to spin.

"We're in _England_, in case you di'nt know." he said, sarcastically.

I sat down in the orange armchair.

Stuart looked up at me concernedly. For the first time, he noticed my sun dress and sandals, my chapped skin and my frizzed hair.

"You aren't from here a'toll. D'you remember where you come from?" he asked. I nodded.

"Yes. I was in California."

The twins snickered, and Stuart stomped on Will's bottom. "S'not funny, shut up." he hissed. I ran my hands through my hair, hoping to smooth it down. I was still wet, and I shivered. Stuart got up and put his coat around my shoulders.

"Really, where were you?"

I knew he wouldn't believe me, so I lied.

"I don't know. My head is starting to hurt again."

Charlie jumped up and fetched a glass of water. It was lukewarm, but I gulped it down. Stuart squeezed into the armchair next to me with a sigh. His ludcrisly crooked tie came to his attention, and he yanked it back into place.

"I think 'yoo lot should get otta 'ere and let 'er rest." he said, making a shoo motion with a bony wrist. The other boys seemed to sit heavier in their seats, eyeing him mulishly. One of the twins brushed the hair out of his eyes.

"Not unless you go too, Stu."

"I 'ahve summat private to say!" he protested. The others rolled their eyes. Charlie took Stuart's place on the couch and put his arms behind his head. He sighed loudly.

"Well, jus' pretend we aren't 'ere. Easy 'nuff." he said. The twins nodded.

Stuart swore lightly.

"Okay. Fine. I won't say it 'atoll. You can jus' sit there." Stuart said. The boys all glared at each other, until Charlie seemed to get an idea and trotted away. The twins followed. I looked at Stu.

"What?"

Stu looked suddenly embarrassed.

"Well...I noticed your...clothes. They're all scorched, and really, you'd 'ahve to be mighty thick to be wearin' a dress like tha' in this weather. I believe you didn't come from here."

He took a breath.

"In fact, I've never seen anything like you before. You clothes, your name, your 'air, they're all weird. I watch a lot of telly, y'know, and...are you from the future?"

I started.

_The future? Does that mean I'm in the past? That would explain the strange clothing. _

"I guess. What year is it?" I said, shrugging.

"1989."

"WHAT?!?"

"Wot?"

"That's like, 18 years ago!"

"So you're fum tha future! Brilliant!!!" Stuart grinned wildly. I could tell he was really excited, but me, I just felt lost. How could I get back? What would I do, now that I was stranded in the past with no money or house or family??

I sighed.

"It's not brilliant. I don't have a home or any money. I'm not even from here. I live in America."

"Why, you'll live wif us! It'll be fun!" he said, as if it all made perfect sense. I was grateful, but a little awkward.

"I don't know, Stu...I'm a girl, and you're a bunch of boys. I don't know what people would say."

"They won't say nuffin'! We're not allowed to 'ave people stay in our apartment anyways. We'll sneak you in, and you know tha' lads'll be perfect gents!" he said, grinning. I picked at the hem of my charred dress. Really, I didn't have any other choice. I looked at Stuart appraisingly from under my eyelids, thinking. If they tried anything improper I could just scream and get them in trouble. _It's your only choice. Make the best of it._

"Alright."

Stuart jumped out of the chair and did a victory dance, sending his tie askew. I smiled too. Maybe it wouldn't be that bad.

He stopped. "Now, t' sneak you in...hmm. You'll need propa' clothes first..." he said thoughtfully. I nodded.

"Let's see what I can find in Char's room." He opened the door and stepped on Charlie and the twins. They all looked at him startledly and then ran off upstairs. Stuart gave chase, yelling madly.

"I TOLD YOU 'TWAS PRIVATE, YOU ROTTEN SNOOPS!!!"

"WE DI'N'T HEAR NOTHIN'!!!"

"OH, RIGHT, MY FAT AUNT!"

There was banging.

"COME OUT OF THE BATHROOM!"

"PUT DOWN THE YARDSTICK!!!" retorted Charlie, muffled behind a door.

I giggled. It was really going to be fun. Back in California, I was an only child. I had never realized how dull life was until just now. Having a load of these boys around would be truly intertaining.

"Alright, c'mon up Erin. Ah don' think they'll bother us for a while." called Stuart from somewhere upstairs. I followed his voice past tiny cramped rooms all in rather faded colors. He was in the smallest, standing in front of a battered chest. He stepped away and beckoned me to it. I opened it.

It was half full of white collared shirts, sweaters in about every shade of green or brown, khaki pants, a pair or two of jeans and some worn undershirts.

I lifted out one of the shirts, an olive sweater and a pair of khakis. The shirts seemed my size, but the pants were far too short. I held them up to me, and they barely grazed my the tops of my ankles. I looked at Stuart mournfully.

"I guess I could cuff them, so it'll look on purpous."

He shook his head.

"No. You can wear mine."

I blushed. He was very good looking, (in my opinion) and the thought of him caring that much about my image...I smiled happily.

"Okay. Where's your room?"

"I don' live here. This is where Charlie's parents live. He visits a lot, so he still keeps a room." explained Stuart. I nodded understandingly.

"Soo...I'll just wear these until we get to your place?"

"Yeah. I suppose it'll have to do. Go try 'em on."

I shooed him out and closed the door. The khakis were far too short. They looked ridiculous. I folded them up and replaced them in the chest, sighing. Surely he had a pair that were too big or something? I dug down to the bottom and found a pair of faded jeans that seemed a bit longer. They were cut rather narrowly, and the waist came up to my bellybutton. I snorted. No wonder nobody missed the eighties; the clothes were hideous. I changed my ratty dress for the sweater and jeans. They felt alright. The bottoms broke around my ankles, making satisfying wrinkles and creases. Stuart kocked on the door impatiently.

"C'n I come in now??"

"Yeah. What do you think?"

Stuart jutted his head around the door and squinted.

"You look terrible." he said teasingly. I put my hands on my hips, irritated. Had all the eyeliner, mascara and lipgloss come to nothing? I spent hours in front of the mirror!

"Hmmph. I think I look cute." I replied, sticking my nose in the air. He smiled.

The twins suddenly appeared out of nowhere under Stuart's elbow. Their eyes were covered by long, thick bangs but I could just imagine their smug expressions.

"Time to go, Stu. Char's mum is comin' 'ome any minute!" said one, Jamie or Will, I couldn't tell. Stuart waved me on and we all thundered down the stairs.

"CHARLIE!! GET OUT OF THE BATHROOM!!!" bellowed Stuart from the bottom of the stairs, as an afterthought. A tiny door at the top of the hall creaked open, and he stuck his head out. Seeing we were a safe distance away and Stuart wasn't mad, he ran down after us. They were all donning their coats and boots. Stuart handed me a pair of tall black rubber boots. They looked a little big, but I pulled them on anyways.

"Nothin' like a pair of wellies when it's rainin'..." muttered Charlie, who was having difficulty fitting into his. One of the twins gave me a spare coat from the hall closet. It was of medium length, navy blue with plaid lining and smelled like tobacco. I pulled it on too and caught a look at myself in the mirror. I really did look like a cute boy. Stuart clapped a hat on my head and dragged me deeper into the house. Charlie was hopping after us with only one boot on.

"They're home! Hurry, to the cellar!!" He hissed, tearing a door open and half-carrying me down a short flight of creaky stairs. We all galloped across the small, dark basement. One of the twins jumped up onto a coal bin and kicked the tiny window above it open. After crawling out of it, he turned and pulled the other twin up. Stuart went out himself and then held his hand out for me.

I jumped up onto the bin, but slipped. I grabbed his hand just before I fell backwards, and he pulled me up. The other boys were fleeing down the rainy street. Upstairs, I could hear loud voices. A deep voice was yelling for Charlie to get his rear back inside and clean up the mess he had made of the living room, and a shriller voice seemed to be reacting to the missing coat and boots.

Stuart and I ran away as fast as we could...

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What do you think so far? Good? REVIEW PLEASE!! I'LL LOVE YOU FOREVER!!

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	2. Chapter 2

Continuing right where we left off...Stu and Erin and the boys are running from Charlie's parents...

And don't forget to drop me a line and say what you think so far. It's reaaaly important to me! )

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After a few minutes, we all regrouped in the park. It was raining slightly harder now, and the sky was a severe iron grey. Charlie's cheeks were flushed.

A sharp gust of wind threatened to remove my hat, and I clapped my hand to my head. The twins were holding their hats on too.

"Wicked good run, eh?" Stuart said nonchalantly. The others agreed. The rain fell harder.

"Le's get to the room, Stu. Erin don't fancy cold rain." Said Charlie. Everyone looked at me, and I blushed. I was shiving a little, and hugging my wet coat to my sides. It was never this cold in California. I wasn't used to it. Stuart nodded.

"Alright. Le's go. Shortcut way, ok?" he queried. Everyone nodded with him.

We had been walking for a long time, (maybe an hour) sloshing through puddles and sneaking down alleys before Stuart and Charlie admitted they had forgotten the shortcut. We opted to take a trolley instead, and it was much quicker.

We were dropped off at a rainy corner somewhere deep in Crawley. Charlie prodded me in the back and pointed out a stately brick building, set back from the street and surrounded by a iron fence.

"That's the St. Wilfreds Academy for Boys. We live in one of the dormitries over there." his finger drifted the the left, pointing out a second brick building. It didn't look half as neat or classy. It was covered in windows, with towels, bicycles, sport team flags, garbage buckets and laundry piled around the balconies. Two of the windows were broken.

I grinned. This certainly looked...interesting. The boys led me under the fence, beneath the shelter of enormous trees that grew over the fence and sidewalk. Their branches were so gnarled and thick that the grass around it was completely dry. Charlie motioned for me to pull my collar up around my face. Stuart yanked my cap down around my ears for more effect. He squinted, satisfied.

"You keep by me, okay? And don' talk. No girls allow'd."

I nodded, and we broke the cover of the trees. Stuart, Charlie and the twins formed a phalanx around me, squishing me between their bony shoulders. We made our awkward way across the soggy grounds to the back of the dormitory. I could smell dogs and something burning, and my hand paused on the doorhandle.

"What is that?"

"Wot's wot?" asked a twin. I sniffed again.

"That smell!"

The twin shrugged.

"I don' smell nuffink," he said, leading me inside, "an' your supposed to be quiet."

The hall we stepped into was incredibly long and smoky, lined with narrow doors and very, very loud. It sounded like there was a radio blaring in every room. We crept down the hall and ducked into an open staircase. Behind us, a door opened and I heard someone approach.

"Stu?"

Stuart shoved me ahead of him and we ran all the way up three flights. Charlie bumped in front of me and took a key from his pocket, practically dancing in place as he fumbled with the lock of room 327.

At the top, it was a bit quieter. Some of the room doors hung open, and their occupants lay on the floor studying or watching television. The dog smell I had first noticed, weakened. I wondered if someone was keeping a kennel down there or something. It smelled like it.

The door popped open and Stuart shoved everyone inside, locking and bolting it behind him.

"What d'you think? Nice?" he asked, jerking his thumb over his shoulder. I started, wide-eyed.

I can't describe the amount of mess and clutter that was in that room, so I will just describe the stuff that really stuck out.

The ceiling fan was hanging at an angle and had scarves drying on it. There was a couch, and the trundle bed (which was pulled out) appeared to have been used as a nest for a gigantic bird. Piles of papers and books littered the floor. An enormous, stolen-looking record player was hooked to the wall above the couch. It's speakers had been painted garish orange. The can of paint was still open. There were stacks of records balanced on it's dusty top. Ashtrays were on every surface, including the floor. There was a clay statuette of a monkey on the windowsill, missing it's head.

"It's not much, but we call it home. For now. Until we can get out of this ratty school. Which will never be soon enough." said a twin, scratching his head. I was still speechless. We all pulled off our boots and coats, piling them on the balcony which was home to a small cactus graveyard.

We rested on the couch for a while, Stuart claiming trundlebed. I was very tired and wet. Would it sound spoiled to ask for a shower? I mulled over this while they fought over the remote. Charlie won, and we began a long, melodramatic western. Nobody else was interested. Even back then, westerns weren't very popular.

"Want to see Charlie's room?" asked Stuart suddenly.

"Sure." _Anything to escape that rotten western. _

He opened a small door that was partially blocked by a gigantic stack of boxes and led me inside. It was far neater than the rest of the dormitory, but not perfect. There were various items of clothing scattered on the floor, mainly socks, and a badly broken lamp sitting on the desk with glass shards still hanging where the bulb was. Other than that, it was perfectly normal. He had several posters on the wall of some pop stars I didn't recognise. The bed was made, and the few books in the suitcase were neatly arranged. I smiled.

"It's nice!" I said, looking around. I noticed a large electric keyboard against one wall.

"Does Charlie play?" I asked, tapping a key. Stuart shook his head. "It's mine. He jus' let's me store it in here."

He noticed the broken lamp.

"Oh no!" He sighed, picking up a shard of glass with his long fingers. I imagined he was examining for fingerprints. He might as well have, because I already knew enough about these boys to make the prediction that none would admit their crime. I plunked another key, absentminded. Then I got an idea. I looked at Stuart again. Something seemed to click into place.

"Hey, Stu? Your last name isn't Tusspot, is it?" I asked. He looked up sharply. I felt my heart begin to race.

He reminded me a lot of someone from my time. I couldn't remember who, but the feeling of deja vu was so strong now I was perfectly facinated with him. The way he walked with his narrow shoulders jutted forwards, and his smile, and especially his blue hair.

"Wot...how'd you know?" he asked, squinting one eye. I clapped my hand to my mouth. This was THE Stuart Tusspot, better known as 2D, lead singer of Gorillaz, ten years before his band's first album!

"Oh my god! And this is Crawley...how come I didn't figure it out sooner?!!"

"_Wot?!?!_"

Then my excitement faded, and I felt a rock drop into my stomach. If I told him who he was in the future, then wouldn't that change his destiny somehow, or mess up his path? What if he made a mistake? I pursed my lips. Better to not spill the beans until I knew it was safe. I turned to him with a stupid grin.

"Nothing...ignore what I just said."

He rolled his eyes and fiddled with his lamp a bit more. I tried not to hyperventilate. I couldn't believe what was happening!

The rest of the evening passed in a blur as the boys showed off their prized possesions, filled me in on embarassing stories about each other (some of which were obviously made up) and lolled on the floor with the record player blaring. Charlie and Stuart competed for leadership almost the entire evening, trying to come up with better insults and ordering the twins around, who ignored them both. I practically floated around, my head buzzing with the implications of sharing a dormitory with the lead singer of Gorillaz.

That night, they put me in Charlie's room since it was cleanest, and he slept on the trundle bed. I stayed up way late, thinking about what to do, and around four AM just decided to keep my mouth shut and see how it went...

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_To be continued!_


	3. Chapter 3

Ohmygawd, chapter three! Yaaaay! XP

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It was late afternoon when I woke up. Somewhere in room next door the TV was roaring loud, and Stuart was in my room banging out a tune on the keyboard. I sat up so fast my head spun.

"Stu?"

He turned around. "Wot? You want me to 'ahve them turn it down?" he asked. I shook my head.

"No. You just startled me, is all."

I got up and straightened my tousled clothes. I had slept in them last night, too shy to ask for a sleepshirt. Stuart continued plunking away on the keyboard. He wore a fresh white shirt, though the tie was crooked like usual. I felt icky next to him.

"Is there a shower here? I'd like to wash my hair. It's got blood in it." I said, running my fingers through my brown snarly hair. Stuart nodded.

"It's outside and down the hall...the very last door. Would you like some towels?" he asked. I nodded, and we walked back to the main room. The others weren't there.

"Where is everyone?" I asked.

"Out...The twins 'ahve school, Charlie has a job. I stayed 'ome so you wou'n't be lonely."

He dug a towel and washcloth from a chest and gave them to me. I smiled thankfully. All by myself in the dormitory would have been awful.

"Thank you!"

"No worries. Now, d'you remember 'ow to get to the bathroom?"

"Yep."

He opened the door for me and pointed which direction anyways. I crept down the hall, feeling nervous. If someone saw me it would all be over. Stuart and the guys would be kicked out. I knocked on the door without even thinking, and someone inside yelled they would be out in a minute. I bit my fist.

How stupid of me!

I went and sat on the stairs. After about twenty minutes I heard the door open and someone shuffle away, sniffling. I darted inside.

I looked awful. My eyes were ringed with dark circles, my lips were chapped and my hair looked like a rat nest. It was dirty, messy and hung in clumps over my eyes. I pushed it out of the way, behind my ears, and I sighed. I really looked rough.

I showered quickly (there was hardly any hot water) and in the medicine cabinet I found a toothbrush, so I took care of that, too. The bathroom was so small that when I stood, the backs of my legs brushed the edge of the cold toilet seat. I stared at myself in the mirror again.

That was it.

I looked...sort like a cross between a boy and a girl. It was weird, with a California pixie-cut, and the severe English boy's clothes. I had to pick between boy or girl look. There was a pair of scissors in the cabinet, and I held them in my hand, thinking. It would be fun to pretend to be a boy for a while. Like Joan of Arc, or Pink. I wouldn't have to worry about showers.

I snipped a tiny lock of hair from the side and it dropped to the damp floor.

Actually, I woulnd't have to worry about being attacked by any of the boys in the dormitory. Or of someone finding me.

Emboldened, I took off a few more locks. Slowly, the scissors grinding in my ear, I fashioned a sort of punky cut. My brown hair stuck up a little, sort of spikey. Heavy, choppy bangs hung in my eyes, hiding my pretty face. I easily passed as a fine-featured boy. Grinning, I rinsed my head in the sink and strutted down the hall, toweling my hair.

Stuart didn't recognise me at first. He kept touching my cropped hair unbelievingly. I was surprised he was so upset.

"You're 'air were so pretty! Why'd you cut it?!?" he demanded, his long fingers twisting a shorn lock of hair that lay against my forehead. I shrugged, feeling light and happy.

"It looks awful. Now you look like a boy." he said, hoping to make me realize what I had done. I nodded again.

"That's why I cut it. Now, I can breath easier about staying with you all."

"Wot? You di'n't 'ave to do that!!!"

"I wanted to."

"Ugh.."

Stuart went back to Charlie's room to play on the keyboard, and I walked around the messy apartment. There were three rooms: The main room, which had a tiny kitchen, Charlie's room, and another room with bunks and sleeping bags.

I liked the bunk room best. The floor was covered in pillows and blankets, all swirled up like a nest. There were wide, flat shelves on the walls, piled with clothes. Apparantly, everyone's personal belongings were kept in the main room because there wasn't enough space. I went back into the main room and the hopeless craze of mess began to make sense. I could start to see where they had marked off their territory. Stuart had the left corner by the door, Charlie had a box, and the twins took the other two corners.

I went and poked into Stuart's pile. It was probably the sloppiest of them all. He had two or three stacks of zombie movies, a Beatles poster and some old records...the rest was absolute rubbish. There were three stacks dog-eared music magazines with the covers torn off. He had a cute stuffed monkey, and a baseball. There were odd bits of junk and metal, string, pretty rocks, a slinky, a sock, two books by Edgar Allan Poe which didn't look as if they had ever been read and a brighty colored sun hat. There were other piles of his clothes, and I was impressed. He had a very interesting wardrobe.

Just then, I heard Stuart open the door and I threw myself onto the couch. He walked in and grinned.

"You wanna take a walk? I'm bored."

"Okay. Can I change clothes first?"

We picked out a navy sweater and a white shirt under it for me. I quickly changed and we headed out. The sun was shining now, and the rain had left gigantic puddles in the lawn. We slouched around the school, dodging people he knew while he gave me a grand tour. It was a beautiful old school. I loved it at first sight, but Stuart didn't feel the same way. He likened it to a gigantic brick monster.

All the boys wore the same uniform as Stuart, in varying stages of destruction. Some had theirs ironed, some had threadbare elbows. Stuart's terminally crooked tie looked a lot less ridiculous next to some of his classmates. A hulking boy walked past with his sleeves cut off and little navy threads poking from the edges.

Both of us had nothing to do there, though, and we left. Stuart dragged me into a record store and excitedly tried to get me to listen to Donovan, but I wasn't interested. I liked Cibbo Matto and Fatboy Slim. Modern stuff. My best friend's brother swore on the bible all music from before 2005 was gay. I never said anything about it, but that didn't exactly make me a fan of older music. Stuart seemed to spend forever poring over each album while I waited.

"Okay, let's go." he finally said. He seemed elated.

"What's up?" I asked as we left the shop.

"Lee Perry has a new record out next month. you want a cup of tea or summat?"

I nodded. I hadn't had breakfast that morning. We wandered into a tiny cafe. Stu and I had tea and shared a sandwich. It was very good-the best, actually, that I had ever had. There was something about it that American tea just couldn't match. Stu attacked his half of the sandwich with gusto. I guess he hadn't eaten either.

"So, do you have a job?" I asked. He nodded.

"I work at Uncle Norm's Organ Emporium, up the street. Wicked boring place, but he don't mind if I'm spacey. After my shift he lets me play the keyboards." He said. I grimaced.

"Wot?"

"Nothing. Bit my tongue."

I was lying. Stuart got his head run over by Murdoc while he worked there, and it made me terribly nervous. In the autobiography, it wasn't so bad, but now that I was here with him...I didn't want him to get hurt. But he had to. It was fate. After the car crash, Murdoc took care of him instead of going to prison and discovered his keyboarding skills, afterwards starting their band. The only thing I could do was just take care of him and make certain Murdoc didn't hurt him. (He had confessed to trying to 'knock off' the unconcious Stuart several times, and kicking him around when he was bored.)

Perhaps I could get a job there, so I could watch over him.

We finished eating and headed back out.

"I feel guilty about all this..." I said, eyes on my sneakers. Stuart looked worried.

"'bout wot?"

"Well, I owe you guys a lot. I mean, you've just taken me in and bought me food...given me a place to stay. I've got to pay you back somehow."

"Don't be silly! You don't owe us anything! I like it that you're here!" he said. I sighed.

"Thank you, but I think I need a job..."

Stu scratched his head.

"Well...er...I think there's a job opening at Norm's. Would that be alright?"

"Yes! Thank you so much!!" I hugged Stuart as hard as I could, ignoring his protests.

"Gerrof me! We look gay!"

I let him go, grinning madly. Now I could watch over him, AND get enough money to pay my part of the rent! It was perfect!

Stuart looked highly pleased with himself. I could tell he was looking forwards to having some company at his boring job.

We strolled down the avenue, just stretching our legs. It was late afternoon when we returned to the dormitory. The twins were back too. One lay on the couch watching the television, and the other was doing homework. Stu plopped down next to the one on the couch.

"Wotcha watching, Jamie?"

"Nuffin."

"Yeah."

Jamie looked up at me and blinked.

"Wot 'appen'd to 'er 'air? She get gum in it?"

"Naw, jus' bored. Look's terrible, don't it?" Stu replied, grinning at me. I pouted.

"Looks wicked."

I smiled thankfully at Jamie.

* * *

I know I suck at ending chapters, but this was all originally one very long document. (17 pages!) And was NOT intended for chapter format...sighs 


	4. Chapter 4

Ooooh! This is the dramatic chapter!!

* * *

The next couple of months were a blur; All week long Stuart, Charlie and the twins had school while I worked. On Saturday, the twins had extra school, and Stuart and I worked at Uncle Norm's, dusting keyboards and staring into space. We lived like a large family. Charlie and I were close friends, but Stuart and I had a connection that none of them could compete with.

With the extra money from my job, I bought myself a cool wardrobe (all of boys clothes) and some nice boots. We went and saw movies on Sundays (I had seen them all before, but it didn't bother me that much) and sometimes Charlie drove us to the beach. I cooked a lot for them and cleaned the dormitory. It was still chaos, but more orderly.

But as happy as I was, I knew in the back of my mind that it wouldn't last. After the accident, it would be Murdoc's job to take care of the comatose Stuart. After that, he would recruit him for his band. Hopefully, I could go with him. I would just have to stay on the right side of Murdoc.

Then, one summer night, it happened.

I was in the back, fetching a price list for Stu while he tried to talk two men into buying an overpriced organ. He had his back to the window, and I heard a revving engine. I ran into the front of the store just in time to see a silver Astra crash through the window. The bumper hit him in the side of the head and rolled to a stop, dragging poor Stuart with it. Somewhere in the distance, a siren was wailing.

Stuart was unconcious, a huge gash on his head. I grabbed the first aid box I kept under the counter (just for this event) and ran up to the car. I wrestled him out from under it and dragged him behind the checkout counter, shaking. I was terrified. There was so much blood on Stu's face I couldn't make out if his eyes were open or closed. The car door opened and nasty looking guy with a mop of black hair and greenish skin staggered out of the car. He was roaring drunk, but unhurt. It was Murdoc Niccals.

"Hey! Frankie! Load this one here up into the back!" slurred Murdoc, leaning on the car door. A boulder-like skinhead lifted the organ Stuart had been selling and put in the car. I tried ignore them and wiped away the blood from Stuart's face. The wound on his head looked bad, so I left it alone. The doctors would take care of it. Stuart opened his eyes, and I gasped in recognition. His right eye was completely black, blood seeping around the edges. My heart was thumping so loudly I was certain it would burst.

Murdoc kicked over an expensive organ and spat on it while the skinhead took three more organs and crammed them in. Stuart was groaning like a zombie as I held him tightly, furious at Murdoc. I had known this was going to happen years ago, but it didn't make it any less painful for either of us. Especially poor Stuart. I watched as Murdoc and the skinhead tried to make their ruined car start, and the engine hiccuped. The police cars skidded into the parking lot, lights flashing. An ambulance followed, and I felt relieved. Stu was in terrible pain.

The police surrounded Murdoc and the skinhead, guns drawn. The two snaggle-toothed crimninals gave up without a fuss. Murdoc was so drunk he fell over into the policemen's arms. They were promptly handcuffed and thrown into the back of a police car.

"Hey! Over here! There's an injured man!" I yelled, waving. Two paramedics ran to us with a stretcher and loaded him onto it. Stuart was ghostly pale.

"Can I go with him?" I asked, following as they carried him to the ambulance. They looked at each other.

"Is he a relative of yours?"

"Yes. My brother." I said, daring them to argue. I had never felt so fiercly protective before. The paramedics nodded, and I climbed into the back of the ambulance. They slammed the doors shut and I felt the van take off. It was dark, and the reddish glow of the tail-lights washed over the inside of the van. A nurse slipped in from the front and hooked Stu up to a machine. She took his pulse, blood pressure and temperature, interrogating me over what happened. When she had finished the hasty examination, she returned to the front with her clipboard. Sirens were still howling back at Norm's.

I held Stuart's hand and he made a zombie noise. The red light made him look worse than he was. It was going to be a very long night.

At the hospital, I was lost in the mad rush of doctors, nurses and patients. Everyone seemed to look right through me.

I spent at least three hours in the waiting room before they would let me in.

When I finally walked into Stuart's room., he was hooked up to at least three machines, each measuring his heatbeat, temperature and vital signs. His eyes were closed, and he was breathing slowly and steadily. It seemed as if he was okay. I heaved a great sigh of relief and sat down next to him. My worries of my presence altering the future melted away with each breath he took. His narrow chest rose and fell. My eyes never left him. I took his warm hand in mine and played with his fingers, spreading them out and admiring their length, curling them between my fingers, just enjoying this treat. If he was awake, he would run away.

I sat there for an hour, just watching, willing him to get better as soon as possible.

"Sir, you've got to go now. Visiting hours start again at nine o'clock tomorrow." said an irritable-looking nurse, drawing a curtain around his bed. I narrowed my eyes, but then remembered my haircut. I stood to go, tucking his arm back in the sheets and lightly kissing his forehead. The nurse watched with glaring, makeupless eyes.

"Are you queer?" she asked, squinting.

I grinned. Homophobe, eh?

"Naw, Mum. We just like to kiss!" I said, and walked past her.

The nurse actually followed me out. I guess keeping an eye on creepy boys is okay, because she really had her eye on me. It was amusing, though, so I didn't complain.

When I finally got back to the apartment, the boys were frantic.  
"Where the bloody hell were you? Where's Stu-" Yelled Charlie, jumping from the couch. He stopped when he saw me, and his green eyes bulged.

"Are you okay? JAMIE! GET THE HELL OFF THAT CHAIR!!!! SHE'S HURT!!" he bellowed, his voice cracking with panic. I looked down. I didn't see any wound. What was he talking about? I pushed my plaid sweater to the side and gasped. The blouse I was wearing was so soaked in blood that it stuck to me like a wet t-shirt. Most of it had dried and glued itself to me. It was all Stuart's. I winced at the thought of him losing so much blood.

"I'm fine! The blood isn't mine! Stuart got hit by a car, and he's in the hospital!" I told them, fighting off both twins as they tried to pick me up and carry me.

"Wot?" asked Will, his face ashen.

I told them what had happened as gently as I could, knowing how much they all cared for Stu. As I expected, they didn't take it well. Charlie leapt up and began to rage about 'that bloody Organ mortuary!', and Will started to cry. Jamie clowned about to cheer everyone up, but Charlie fell upon him and gave him a kick, annoyed by his antics. Then, when they had all tired of being dramatic, Charlie interrogated me like I was a communist spy.

I answered them all as well as I could, not telling everything for fear of dropping information I wasn't supposed to know yet. The cat clock on the wall said it was about 2:00AM, and suddenly I was exoughsted. My eyes ached for sleep.

"Guys, I've got to get to bed..." I stood and, ignoring their protests, dragged myself into the bunkroom.

* * *

I'm struggling with the next chapter, but hopefully I'll have it up soon. 


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